


I Love You, Don't You Know?

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, Sick Character, Sickfic, Yearning, ooc probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: “Uhh you alright, Boss?”Jon looked at the door to see Tim, leaning against the frame with files in his hand.“Yes, yes, I’m fine... Just… a lot of work.”Tim didn’t seem inclined to believe him, but he nodded.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	I Love You, Don't You Know?

**Author's Note:**

> for the prompt "Jon Yearning"

Jon heard the coughing as soon as Martin got into work.

Jon wasn’t as oblivious as people thought him to be, he was at least able to tell that martin had looked more and more worn down every single day for the past three weeks, he didn’t know much, not really having any personal interactions with the other man, but he had heard Martin mention his mum being ill and having to take care of her.

The answer was clear, the weeks of little sleep and worry caught up to the man.

He didn’t care, not really, not more then a boss should, he cared that the work got done and that the others didn’t get sick.

That is all.

He didn’t care that Martin was ill.

Why should he?

Martin was slow, and his handwriting was atrocious, he constantly made mistakes, and spent the whole day making tea.

Good tea.

Damnit.

Jon groaned, just as the door opened. 

“Uhh you alright, Boss?”

Jon looked at the door to see Tim, leaning against the frame with files in his hand.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine... Just… a lot of work.”

Tim didn’t seem inclined to believe him, but he nodded.

“Alright, let us know if you need any help, yeah? It’s what we’re here for.”

Jon nodded and buried his face into his work again, and stayed like that until Martin knocked on the door.

“Uh- hey Jon, I uh- I brought you some tea and this follow up you had me do.”

“Ah, thank you, Martin- uh- are you alright? I heard you coughing earlier and- well- if you wanted the day off, to uh, recover.”

Jon started awkwardly at Martin and fought the urge to hide, and it looked like Martin was doing the same, his whole frame went rigid and his face paled, cheeks blushing a dark pink.

“Oh- uh- sorry, no, I’m fine, but-but thank you!”

Martin then quickly left his office and left Jon in his wake, defeated, with a small twinge in his heart.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late, Jon knew that.

He had gotten sucked into another statement and now the office was quiet, a sign that work was done and he needed to go home. 

He emerged from his office, the bonk sound being the tap of his cane against the floor when he noticed a small light coming from inside the assistant’s office.

No one should be here...

Jon stepped slowly to the door, the statements must’ve been getting to him saying how scared he felt, but when he stepped into the dimly lit room, he was greeted with nothing.

Except for one assistant passed out on his desk, an oversized hoodie wrapped around him.

Damnit.

He crept over to Martins sleeping form and tapped his shoulder gently.

“Martin, uh- wake up.”

Martin didn’t budge, so Jon shook him a little bit, and when he felt the heat coming off Martin’s body he winced.

“Martin! You gotta wake up.”

He was shouting now, kinda, he felt bad but he knew he had to be loud, and Martin shot up, immediately breaking into a coughing fit. 

“Ah shit.”

Jon awkwardly rubbed circles onto Martin’s back while the other man desperately tried to catch his breath.

“You’re alright, man, just catch your breath.”

After a minute, martin did, and he looked around, face painted with confusion, before his dark eyes focused onto Jon’s concerned face.

“Oh- uh- sorry Jon, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Martin was panicking, and Jon did everything in his power not to panic too.

“You’re alright Martin”

Martin dropped his gaze, and Jon took in his frame, shaking and pale.

“You’re sick, why’d you come in today?”

Martin huffed out a laugh and buried his head in his hands.

“Couldn’t afford to take the day off, ‘nd needed to finish things.”

Jon’s heart wanted to break, so he quickly gathered his thoughts and made an impulse decision.

“Do you want to come to my place for the night? I know it’s closer than yours and I actually do have some medicine and such.”

Martin looked shocked and slightly scared by the offer, and he quickly shook his head.

“Jon, no I couldn’t, I can just head home.”

The panic Martin must’ve felt triggered another coughing fit in him, and he was doubled over in his chair, Jon awkwardly rubbing his back.

“Please, Martin? You’ve helped me out quite often, I would like to repay you.”

Martin still refused, reassuring Jon he could sleep it off, and so Jon let him go.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon wasn’t sure what came over him at the office the night prior, but the next he got the text morning only reinforced the feeling.

It was a string of letters, something that could’ve been interpreted as words but were not actually words, save for the word sorry at the end, figures to be the one word he can still spell.

Jon’s heart froze when the message came in, and the same urge to take care of him arose again, and before he knew it, he was on his way to Martin’s apartment.

He knocked on Martin’s door, before realizing that the door was unlocked, and he carefully pushed it open.

Martin was passed out on the couch, still in his clothing from yesterday, and it didn’t look like he’d taken anything or had anything to drink.

Jon sighed, he wasn’t the caretaking type so why he kept offering was beyond him, he didn’t even like the man!

He didn’t understand why whenever Martin’s hand brushed his he felt his heart skip a beat, or why when Martin spoke to him, voice not coated in fear, he felt chills run down his spine.

He stepped silently into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water from the tap, and looking around to see, alarmingly, no food.

He sighed, and sent off a text to Tim, being sure it sounded as…. professional as he could while asking for him to bring things to take care of his archival assistant.

Whom he did not like.

Tim shot back a “sure, boss ;)” and Jon groaned, making his way to the couch and gently shaking Martin awake.

“Martin, you gotta wake up.”

The sleeping man groaned and pried open tired eyes, which were foggy and confused until he registered who was standing over him.

“J’n? What’re you doin?”

He tried to push himself up, but Jon set his hand on his shoulder gently, pushing him back down.

“You’re ill, Martin, here, drink.”

He held the water to the other man’s lips and he reluctantly took a sip, before settling back down when Jon let him.

Just then, Tim knocked on the door and came in with a bag of sick person food, and Jon quickly excused himself.

He leaned against the wall outside Martin’s building.

God.

He hated Martin.

**Author's Note:**

> follow my tumblr at haunted-by-catholic-guilt


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